


my baby got me sleep deprived

by moonisland



Series: let the sky fall [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Blood and Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonisland/pseuds/moonisland
Summary: Three weeks into his new job, Kei finds a man lying in a pool of his own blood. The events that come after that are all his cat's fault.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the kinda james bond au no one ever asked for. heavily inspired by the 007/q fics ive read. unbeta'd.

Three weeks into his job, Kei finds a man lying in a pool of his own blood in an alley two blocks from his apartment.

He has two plastic bags full of cereals and instant food in his hands. Bile immediately climbs up his throat as the stench of copper fills his nose. He doesn’t move as his eyes search the surroundings. There’s a cat on the back of the man, paws moving as if it’s trying to wake the man up. It takes him ten seconds to recognize the black and yellow patterns of his fur and realize that it’s _his own damn cat_.

“Fuck,” he says, finally pushed into movement. “Kenma, no. How the fuck did you even get out, you dumb cat?”

He kneels down, placing his groceries slightly further so that it won’t be stained by the redness still flowing on the concrete. Maybe it’s cynical of him to be thinking of his food supplies when there’s a man lying in front of him, possibly dead, but his brain is still trying to catch up with the situation. Kei is a man who deals with computers and the web specifically to avoid this kind of shit. This is Yamaguchi’s line of work, being the genius med student that he is. He’s paid to deal with blood, probably. Kei is paid to stay in front of the computer and never interact with another human being, dead or otherwise. He swats Kenma away (he’s going to put his apartment on a lockdown, seriously) as he hovers above the man. Right, pulse check. That’s a thing, right? He looks for a place to check that isn’t covered in blood, feeling like puking as he finds none. Oh for God’s sake, he thinks, steeling himself to press a finger against the side of the man’s neck. He remembers vaguely seeing something along this line in Yamaguchi’s textbook years ago.

“I’m alive,” the man says before Kei touches him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Kei curses, applauding himself for not shrieking like a prepubescent boy. Honestly, his throat feels too tight to make a sound, let alone a shriek. He's grateful for the small chance to keep his dignity, either way. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Gunshots,” the man replies easily. As easily as he can while he wheezes out his answers, really. “And knife wound, I think? Pretty sure my ribs are broken too, since I usually sound better than this.”

Kei doesn’t know how it’s possible to want to hit someone in this kind of state, and he doesn’t know what it says about him that he really wants to. Now that Kei pays attention, the dark suit the man is wearing has two holes on it, slightly burned. He really doesn’t want to know. He turns towards Kenma, who is staring straight at him with yellow huge eyes. The damn cat looks cool as cucumber, and as much as it annoys Kei, it helps clear his head. “Okay,” he says, “I’m going to call someone.”

The man’s entire body jerks. “No.”

“Well, tough shit, because I’m not going to witness the death of someone and do nothing,” he spits. It’s mostly his nerves that’s keeping his sarcasm intact. At least he’s not breaking down, so that’s something new to learn about himself today. “Just. Shut up and don’t die.”

“What a hero,” the man wheezes. “Don’t call the hospital.”

“You’re literally bleeding all over the pavement, who else do you think I’m going to call,” he says. There’s a slight hysterical tone in his voice that he’s definitely not proud of. The grip he has on his cellphone turns his fingers white, and he realizes with a disgust that he’s shaking. He needs to get it together, especially considering his job now. This is why he applied to deal with objects.

Kei is too busy thinking on how to not hyperventilate, cursing his brain for catching up only to be completely useless, when a hand clasps around his wrist. A bloody hand. This time, he does shriek. “What the fuck—”

“No hospital,” the man says, and this time he has his face up. His gaze is hard, eyebrows furrowed. There’s an intensity Kei doesn’t expect from a dying man in them, and it turns Kei’s inside even colder. This man is shot twice on the back and left to die in a damn alley, of course he’s a dangerous man himself. He doesn’t know what he expects. There’s no way he’s a simple civilian, and it’s even more obvious from the way his fingers tighten around Kei’s wrist. He realizes that the man, bloody and dying as he is, can probably break him. “Leave me here if you have to, just don’t do it.”

Kei considers it, for a brief second, but there’s a voice that sounds suspiciously like Yamaguchi in his head stopping him. Also, Kenma will definitely judge him, and he’s not going to stoop that low.

Wait. Yamaguchi. “I’m not leaving,” he says, shaking off the man’s grip. Despite his thought, the man’s hand flops down easily, falling onto the concrete with a soft thunk. He pulls up his call history and presses the number on top. Kenma putters around the man before he settles beside Kei’s thigh, nudging at his shaking hand. The man, to his absolute dismay, moves to pet his fucking cat, who stays unmoving and will probably let him. What the fuck is wrong with him? “Don’t touch him with your bloody hand!”

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi’s voice reaches his ear right as Kenma moves his head closer to the man’s finger, successfully getting himself a stripe of blood on his fur. Kei is going to disown him, he swears. “Who’s bloody? Are you okay?”

“Yamaguchi, hey, listen to me, I need you to not ask question and come to my apartment right now. There’s an, uh, it’s—,” he pauses, staring at the man who is not nuzzling with his cat. The blood has now reached his shoe. Kei moves his gaze to the plastic bag he puts further away, wondering if he can put it on fire. “Bring every first aid thing you have. And possibly more. Definitely a lot more. Just bring everything.”

There’s a pause, but there is a perk that comes with being childhood friend, and learning not to ask question when told is one of them, especially with someone like Yamaguchi who has stayed with him through everything. “Give me ten minutes if you need me to bring all my supplies.”

“That’s fine,” he says, forcing himself to breathe easier. He’s definitely going to regret this, but mostly he just regrets owning a useless cat. Cereals and instant food are not worth it. The man is still petting his cat, putting dried blood all over the black and yellow fur. “You’ll know when you’re here.”

 

 

Yamaguchi holds himself well, getting to work immediately when he finds Kei kneeling beside the bloody man. He doesn’t ask question, simply putting his bag down and ties his hair up, telling Kei to be on standby just in case. The ‘just in case’ doesn’t happen except when Yamaguchi tells him hold the man down to minimize the man’s move as he works on him, which Kei finds silly because even with his full strength he knows his hands don’t restrain the man’s muscles from moving almost violently every time Yamaguchi says ‘hold it, Kei’, but he does it anyway.

The man insists to be left alone after he’s all bandaged, but Yamaguchi is actually stern enough to shut him up. He makes Kei take him to his apartment, the three of them hobbling off for two blocks with Kenma trailing behind. He leaves his friend to deal with the man, scooping his cat into his arm and frowning in repulsion at both of their state. He considers burning his shirt.

It’s when he’s bathing Kenma and patiently waits for his loud growling to tire his cat self up that Kei realizes that he’s left his groceries on the pavement where he put it.

By the time Kei goes out to the kitchen to complain to Yamaguchi, the bloody man has left a bloody couch and way too much of bloody trails on his floor. Yamaguchi curses enough for the both of them. When Kenma, fresh from his bath, saunters gracefully and curls on the fucking dirty couch, red probably seeping all over his fucking fur again, Kei considers moving out entirely. It’s only Yamaguchi promising to help him clean up that keeps him from throwing himself in front of a moving car as he goes back to retrieve his forgotten cereals.

 

 

The man introduces himself as 001. His hair is ridiculous, but his suit is impeccable, not a single strand out of place, fitted perfectly against his body. Kei has always wondered why official field agents need such fitted suits and how they affect their performance, but so far he hasn’t encountered any agent who can’t punch their target because their suit is too tight. The government sure pays a lot for their agents’ clothes. It probably wouldn’t hurt if some of their fund goes to their department’s coffee machine, he thinks.

“Q,” 001 greets him, a glint in his eyes.

Kei tries not to read too much into it. Instead, because he doesn’t know what possible danger is even if it punches him in the face, Kei says, “You owe me a couch.” _Case in point,_ his life probably groans. Alas, he keeps their eye-contact and his straight face when he continues, “And a lot of bleach.”

Sawamura, the head of their whole agency, has sent him to the art museum to meet with another agent who’s going to work directly with him on missions. The agent wasn’t there when Kei started his job because he was in the middle of an undercover mission, apparently, and he was MIA for the past month and a half. When he finally gets back Kei is knee deep in another mission with another agent, so the ‘proper introduction’, as Sawamura has put it, only happens two weeks after. Kei asks around about the supposedly most valuable agent, but most of them, including his boss, simply give him a vague answer about how he _will know him when you meet_. Which is, basically, useless.

Or not. When the bloody man from two months ago (or has it been more? Kei genuinely can’t tell, since he’s sold his stupid couch, persistent bloodstains and all, and any smell of blood has been gone for a while thanks to the three bottles of air freshener he spends his first paycheck on) appears right beside him, commenting on some painting Kei is staring blankly at, it takes a lot of willpower in him to not just walk away and quit. He knows the man alright.

“Ah, that,” 001 says. “Will dark blue be okay? It will hide the dark color better.”

Kei frowns. “Dark color?”

“Blood red,” 001 answers easily. “In case I need a place to crash. Oh, how’s your cat? I’ll buy him food too, just in case.”

There’s an insistent vein that throbs hard in the middle of his forehead. Kei doesn’t ask what his _just in case_ entails, but he knows it will probably give him more headaches. He makes a mental note to stock on aspirin, and to take some deep breathing exercise lessons. He probably needs to keep a government secret agent alive, considering. “My cat is fine,” he finds himself replying. To the glee of the agent, it seems, seeing as 001 grins widely. Kei regrets every decision he’s ever made in his life, out of principle.

“We’ll get along just fine,” the agent says with a pat on his back, eyes shining with amusement when Kei blatantly rolls his shoulders to remove the touch. Instead of moving away like any respectable human would, he moves closer to Kei and throws one arm across his shoulder. He’s a little shorter than him, so Kei is stuck bending down slightly, with a future back problem. Great. “Can I ask for an exploding pen, Q?”

Really great. “No,” he grits, and 001 laughs.

 

 

The couch is delivered to his apartment two weeks later. It is, in fact, dark blue. The sender is a drawing of a cat face, black and ugly. The delivery guy stares at him weirdly, but doesn’t say anything when he signs the acceptance form. Kei knows for certain that 001 is in Sierra Leone, because he just gets him out of a drug lord’s lair a few hours ago. He doesn’t ask him about it when 001’s voice comes in his ear a few hours later, and simply does the job he’s being paid for, staring intensely at blueprint of the building the agent is in on the big monitor in front of him and typing rapidly until his fingers are cramped.

A month later, 001 breaks into his apartment.

He was declared MIA two weeks ago, but Kei doesn’t mention it when the damn agent appears in the middle of his living room, too busy trying not to scream and drop his dinner out of shock. There’s no blood, but he makes Kei pushes his dislocated shoulder in place, grunting softly as he sits on Kei’s toilet. He also sleeps on the dark blue couch he bought, leaving only a disgusting drool mark on the arm pillow when Kei checks on him in the morning. There are two boxes of cat food on his kitchen counter. Kei doesn't think about how he knows the exact brand Kei usually buys. He also doesn't think of the fact that his address, his actual living space, is compromised.

Kenma meows. Somehow, Kei knows that everything is the damn cat’s fault.

 

 

Out of habit, Kei breaks the government's security system and hacks into everything he can find on 001. It’s self-preservation, he justifies himself. He can’t just let a government secret agent break into his apartment every time he gets an injury without knowing anything about him. It’s just logic. There’s only so much ruined sheet and couches he can handle, so after the fourth time 001 disappears after his inconvenient routine stop at Kei’s apartment almost six months after their first encounter, he gets in front of his laptop and puts on his headphone.

His name is Kuroo Tetsurou. He’s two years older than Kei, and he turned twenty-seven last November. He’s born and raised in Tokyo. He has two sisters, one older and one younger, but the file doesn’t say anything about them—not even a name. He’s got an apartment in a complex near the headquarter, possibly paid for by the citizens’ tax. There’s an encrypted code blocking the entire part about his abilities and job description. The files of his previous missions are locked away with another security wall, but Kei can’t be bothered to search for more.

He makes a note on the fact that Kuroo Tetsurou has been doing this for eight years.

001 finds him in his office the next day. He doesn’t talk about how he vanished from Kei’s apartment just three days ago, and neither does Kei. He puts a snow globe on Kei’s table instead. It’s from Switzerland, the writing on it says.

“Don’t start calling me Kuroo,” he tells him with a smile, and Kei’s blood runs cold.

He has only done this for a few months, but he knows what he has to do. He doesn’t break eye contact as he puts on his headphone, raising his eyebrow coolly, and there’s a shift in the agent’s expression. 001 snorts, pulls out the cord of Kei’s headphone, and walks off with a whistle. There’s a glimpse of a gun inside his suit, which he knows doesn’t happen on accident. Kei breathes. The sound of 001’s whistle quiets down, and Kei tries to ignore the shake of his fingers as he tries to plug his headphone back on.

**Author's Note:**

> this is very self-indulgent so if you're... lost... just ask i guess hfdsjahg. there's a lot more in this universe that i've written but the tone of it is very... different to this? so i'm making this the intro of the series. yay? also drag me for making kenma a cat. am i sorry though.
> 
> [tumblr](http://moonislander.tumblr.com)/[fic post](https://moonislander.tumblr.com/post/158235075208/my-baby-got-me-sleep-deprived).


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